HAM PROMISES TO BE BRAVE HEREAFTER
IT was Joe Dawson, though, who caught the first glimpse of the
“passengers” as the motor boat ran in closer, while Tom was busy with
the motor.
“The ghost?” yelled Joe. “I should say so!”
Then everybody struggled for a look into the boat. Besides the Tremaine
party there were fourteen Florida men whom Jeff had brought in from the
nearest community. Two of them were peace officers.
“Ease off the bow, Joe, and get the bow line for yourself,” grinned
Tom. “But, say! Aren’t they a handsome lot?”
A wild cheer went up from all hands.
The bow line was quickly made fast, after which Tom threw off a stern
line, which Jeff caught and tied.
Then, amid a very babel of exclamations and questions, young Halstead
stepped out onto the pier, Joe being the first to grip his hand.
Henry Tremaine secured the next chance, remarking, while his eyes
twinkled mistily:
“Captain Halstead, I owe you an apology.”
“For what, sir?”
“For being so officious as to summon any help. But I admit that I
didn’t quite know you boys. I think I do, now.”
“However it was done, it was splendid!” cried Ida Silsbee, eagerly,
presenting her small, gloved hand to the young captain.
“Splendid? I never heard of anything like it!” uttered Dixon, as he,
too, pressed forward, holding out his hand.
Both his speech and his act were for Ida’s benefit. Oliver Dixon had
the good sense to know that any slight offered the motor boat youth, at
this time, would redound against his own chances as suitor with Miss
Silsbee.
Tom took the Dixon hand limply, looking straight into the young man’s
eyes so searchingly that even the brazen Oliver had difficulty in
maintaining anything like composure.
“I’ll keep up the pretense with him,” thought Halstead, “until I’m
ready to unmask him.”
“Captain Tom,” exclaimed Oliver Dixon, eagerly, “you’re a wonder—a
twentieth century knight!”
Sim, at this moment, was being hauled out of the boat by three of the
Florida men present. Sim’s sullen, baleful eyes sought Dixon’s, causing
that young man to quail, though just at that instant none of the
Tremaine party noted the episode.
“Say, I reckon we know all these fellows,” announced one of the local
officers. “Sim and Jig are two of the worst men that ever got into the
Everglades. We know enough, too, about Jabe and Kink to keep ’em busy
fo’ a long time explaining their records.”
“Then you can take charge of them all as criminals wanted by the
courts?” inquired Halstead.
“Yep; I reckon we can.”
“Good enough, then; you can have ’em on the old charges, and I won’t
have to stay in Florida, forever and day, to be a witness.”
“There is no use staying here,” declared Henry Tremaine. “Bring
prisoners and all up to the house. It’s a lot more comfortable talking
where there are chairs.”
Joe walked on one side of his chum as they bent their steps away from
the pier. To aggravate Oliver Dixon’s jealous rage, Ida Silsbee also
managed to keep close to the young skipper.
On the broad porch the four prisoners were lined up. Uncle Tobey was
also brought out and added to them, the local officers being satisfied
that the aged negro voodoo doctor had acted as a go-between for the
gang.
“And this is the whole of the Ghost of Alligator Swamp, laid by the
heels,” chuckled Henry Tremaine, appreciatively.
Then Tom, of course, had to tell the story of his strange adventure. He
told it with extreme modesty, yet even the dullest account was bound
to place him higher than ever in the estimation of all his hearers
save Joe. Young Dawson had an opinion of his chum that nothing could
increase.
The three who had been gagged were now allowed the use of their
tongues, but did not abuse their privilege. Sim ordered them all to
“shet up and keep shet,” which advice they followed to the letter.
It was a big feeding contract that devolved upon the Tremaines. In the
house, however, were plenty of provisions. With the help of some of
the Florida men a meal big enough for all was prepared before dark.
Even the prisoners were fed. Then the local visitors were ready to take
the collective “ghost” to the nearest jail, many miles off through the
forest. Henry Tremaine, however, after paying all liberally for their
trouble, further engaged six of the natives to remain behind.
“For,” he announced, “we came here to hunt alligators, and that’s what
we’re going to do. Now, you six men can be towed by us in another
boat when we go into the Everglades. The presence of such a party,
armed, will be enough to keep any friends of the prisoners that may
be lurking in the big swamp country from showing us any hostile
attentions.”
The evening was spent with some further accounts of Tom’s trip into the
Everglades. When it came time to retire it was decided to let the six
Florida men stand guard over the bungalow, one at a time, through the
night.
By daylight the entire party was up again. With the first glimpses
of light the six Florida men had begun a further exploration of the
country thereabouts. Two of them came upon the battered, though
serviceable, old boat that Sim and his crew had evidently used. Some
of the others found a covered hiding-place in the woods where the
Everglades rascals had hidden much ghostly paraphernalia. Among this
stuff was a jointed bamboo “ghost,” covered with cotton cloth—the same
thing that had frightened Ham Mockus so badly in the kitchen.
“Now, do you see what you were shivering about?” demanded Henry
Tremaine, laughingly.
“Ah reckon Ah’s done bin a plumb idiot,” admitted Ham, shamefacedly.
“Not any bigger idiot than folks hereabouts have been during the last
three years,” rejoined Tremaine. “Nor any bigger idiot than people
have always been, all over the world. But, Ham, my lad, take a bit
of advice: whenever you hear of a sure-enough, really-and-truly
ghost, just get out on its trail with a shot-gun. Don’t lose any time
shivering, and don’t waste any time until you’ve brought that ghost
into camp.”
“No, sah, Ah won’t,” promised Ham, solemnly.
“He’ll run and hide his head the very next moan he hears on a dark
night,” laughed Jeff Randolph.
“W’ut yo’ talkin’ erbout, Marse Jeff?” demanded Ham, with a show of
indignation. “Jes’ a plain, or’nary niggah?”
Dixon was on hand again, trying to be extremely pleasant to young
Captain Halstead.
“I mustn’t let him see that I suspect or know anything,” thought Tom.
“I mustn’t scare Dixon away from this party until I’m able to place
Officer Randolph’s story right under Henry Tremaine’s nose.”
“I’m very glad to see that you’re so nice with young Halstead,” Ida
Silsbee found chance to remark to Oliver Dixon.
“Why shouldn’t I be pleasant with him?” asked Dixon, pretending
surprise.
“I was afraid you had taken an unaccountable dislike to the boy.”
“Much to the contrary,” remarked the young man, smiling. “I always
admire great pluck and an uncommon amount of brains.”
“All aboard for the alligator hunt! We haven’t any time to lose in
making the start,” called Henry Tremaine, hurrying through the house.